My hands are small,
small and weak.
My shoulders may be bent.
Is my voice hesitant?
Am I short of breath?
Short-sighted?
Uncertain?
Certainly, I get confused.
What firm ground is there?
Did I remember to breathe deeply?
Am I remembering to breathe deeply?
Do I remember the Source of my strength?
I remember.
Hot voice on a cool night,
telling me, "Remember."
"Remember, you aren't alone,
You won't bear this alone.
Remember the Source of your Becoming.
Remember, it isn't just of frail earth that you're made.
It isn't just of achy, weak and tired flesh.
Your soul, your Ba, is formed of light-Essence,
Your Ba is Pure and knows her Maker.
Your Ba knows the God-Force that called her into Being,
knows His many names,
and can sing to you the pulsing song of His own Becoming.
Let that rhythm soothe you on a despairing night.
So many oceans, so many waves...
Remember the Source of your Becoming,
and you will remember the Source of your Strength."

After I did the poem, I wanted to illustrate it. I'd "heard" three speakers when I 'received' this poem. The first is mundane Joan Lansberry. The "Hot voice on a cool night", well, you might have guessed who the "Hot Voice" was, before I showed you the illustration. :) And the third is my Higher Self.

I could imagine right away how I wanted to do the illustration. But, of course, the main thing was finding how to express "Remember!" in hieroglyphs. So I got out the two volume Budge. Between Julia and I, we picked what seemed the most likely phrase. Having armed myself with that, I sought to confirm this in the Faulkner translations. And yes, this phrase is also there. So I felt pretty confident that an ancient literate person would know what I meant.

Skha: to remember, to call to mind, to commemorate some person or thing, to think, to think out...